


Offerings

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Chains, Drabble, F/F, Face Slapping, Girls in Chains, Not What It Looks Like, Pleading, Please Don't Kill Me, Roughness, Sexual Roleplay, Slapping, Sub Rowena MacLeod
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 23:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Rowena begs for mercy. Reader is having none of it.





	Offerings

"Please," Rowena begged, eyes looking straight into yours. "Don't kill me."

She was on her knees, heavy iron chains binding her hands. You had to admit, she almost had you. Tearful eyes, wounded puppy gaze, and hands clasped together, she was the picture of a sympathy card.

She should have known that would get her nowhere.

Someone else might have taken pity on her, but not you. Underneath all that vulnerability, there was a monster, a killer thirsty for blood. If you didn't stop her, who knew how many more innocents would fall victim to her wickedness?

Rowena MacLeod was a threat.

And threats weren't to be pitied.

Grabbing a handful of her hair, you pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, taking a moment to regain her balance in her high heels. You tightened the grip on her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck. Her heart beat wildly, the artery pulsating on the sensitive skin. Up and down, up and down, like a tiny river rushing within her person.

You scrunched your face, stomach turning in disgust. To think these things – witches, sorcerers – were human was sickening. There was nothing even remotely human about them.

Especially this one.

This foul, filthy bitch had no right to be referred to as human.

"And why shouldn't I?" You hissed it with venom, voice biting at her like a snake burrowing its fangs into its innocent victim's flesh.

Though, there was nothing innocent about this one.

"I'll do anything," she whimpered, shivering under your glare.

You traced her vein with your finger, feeling the pumping of her heart as little thuds pounded against your skin. Such a fragile thing she was. Take away her magic, and she was nothing but a weak, little woman. Not worth your time. Not worth your breath. Not worth anything but death.

"Oh, really?"

What could you possibly want from her, you wondered. With her magic bound and her life in your hands, she had nothing left to offer.

 _"_ _Anything,"_ she repeated in a small voice, eyeing you from head to toe, those forest green eyes devouring every detail of your body. "I'll be your servant. Your slave. I'll be anything you want, my lady. Let me live and I'll prove to you I can be of value."

Out of all the things she could have offered, for her to go this route was unexpected.

Growling, you shoved her against a wall with all the strength you could muster. She moaned, and before she could say another word, your hand wrapped around her throat.

"I wouldn't touch you with a ten-foot pole," you spat, squeezing at her neck lightly.

"Please," she squeaked. A single tear rolled down her face. "You won't regret it."

"I'm already regretting it," you snapped. "You're wasting my time. I should've killed you when I first saw you."

She flinched at the harshness of your tone. "Have mercy."

"Mercy?" you asked, growing angry. "Your kind doesn't deserve mercy! You think you're special 'cause I let you live this long? Newsflash, sweetheart: you're not. You're  _nothing!_  You disgust me!"

"Y/N, please–"

A sharp, swift slap cut her sentence off. Her head flung sideways, a grunt escaping her lips. The skin on her cheek instantly reddened, marks in the shape of fingers forming on its surface.

"Grimoire!" she shouted.

You instantly released her, anger vanishing in place of concern. Rowena brought her hand to her cheek, cradling the bruise, and your heart jumped in fear.

Had you hit her too hard?

"Rowena?" you asked guiltily. "You okay?"

"Aye," she said, gasping for breaths. "Just give me a moment."

"Did I hurt you?"

"I'll be alright."

"I'm sorry."

You'd gotten so into it, it hadn't occurred to you that you could cross the line. The two of you loved to roleplay from time to time and Rowena had never used the safe word before. Your slap must have hurt a lot.

"Don't be," she told you, sending you a warm smile. "This was fun. A wee bit intense towards the end, but nothing I can't handle."

You sighed in relief. "Want me to take the chains off?"

She shook her head. "I'd like to keep going, if that's alright with you."

"Of course," you said. Gently laying your hands on her shoulders, you leaned forward to press a kiss to her bruised cheek. "Ready?"

"Ready," she said, smirking viciously.

You gave her one final smile before your lips formed a firm line and your hand tangled in her hair, pushing her up against the wall again.

Wicked witches needed to be punished.

**Author's Note:**

> Edited by OswinTheStrange.


End file.
